JobChapter 30
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1"But now they make fun of me,
men who are younger than I am.
I would not have let their fathers
work with my sheep dogs. 2What good was the strength of their hands to me?
Their strength had left them. 3They were thin from being poor and hungry.
They chewed on the dry ground
and on the empty wasteland at night. 4They picked salty plants among the bushes.
The roots of the broom tree were their food. 5They were driven away from other people.
People shouted at them as if they were thieves. 6So they lived on the sides of dry streambeds.
They lived among the rocks and in holes in the ground. 7They cried out among the bushes.
They huddled together under the thorny weeds. 8They were a foolish crowd with no names.
They were chased out of the land. 9And now they sing songs to make fun of me.
My name has become a joke to them. 10They hate me and stay far away from me.
They don't stop themselves from spitting in my face. 11God has cut the string of my bow.
He has made me suffer.
So they do whatever they want in front of me. 12A wild crowd rises up on my right side.
They set traps for my feet.
They build ramps to attack me. 13They tear up my path.
They gain from my ruin,
and no one stops them. 14They come at me as if through a wide hole in a wall.
They keep rolling in through the broken stones. 15Terrors are set loose against me.
They blow away my honor like the wind.
My good life has passed away like a cloud. 16And now my life is draining out of me.
Days of suffering hold me tight. 17At night pain stabs my bones.
My aching pains never rest. 18With great force God grabs my clothes.
He takes hold of me by the collar of my tunic. 19He throws me into the mud.
I have become like dust and ashes. 20I cry out to you for help, but you do not answer.
When I stand up, you just look at me. 21You have turned on me without mercy.
You fight against me with your strong hand. 22You snatch me up into the wind and drive me along.
You toss me around in the storm. 23Yes, I know you will bring me down to death.
You will bring me to the place set for everyone who lives. 24Yet no one strikes a ruined man
when he cries for help in his trouble. 25Didn't I cry for people who were in trouble?
Didn't my heart grieve for the needy? 26But when I hoped for good, evil came.
When I looked for light, darkness came. 27My insides churn, and I can't rest.
Days of suffering face me. 28I walk around with dark skin, but not from the sun.
I stand up in the crowd and cry for help. 29I have become a brother to jackals.
I have become a friend to ostriches. 30My skin turns black and peels off.
My bones burn with fever. 31My harp plays sad songs.
My flute plays the sound of weeping.